Dear Santa, For Christmas this year, I don’t want an iPhone 10, a Nespresso machine, or a caramelised almond brittle latte with festive sprinkles on top. I want silence. A moment to breathe. To exit from society’s whirlwind of selfies, status updates and Reality TV. To be clear – I’m not talking about John Cage’s minimalist music masterpiece, ‘ Silence ’. Though perhaps it is in the nation’s interest for the government to mandate 4 minutes and 33 seconds of silence once a month so we can detox from the Brexit brawls. I’m also not referring to the type of silence you get before a storm. Nor the silence that follows a misunderstanding or a socially awkward moment. Rather, I want the silence that descends when all the cards are on the table and you stand face to face with Truth. Yes, I know, Santa. The silence that comes after truth is a tricky stocking filler. It is invariably difficult to gift-wrap because as soon as you put some colourful paper on it and finish it
The remarkable in the ordinary